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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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Shelf_'/a'.s?<r5'6 



rXITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



No. 



a 



SONNETS AND LOVE POEMS 



BY 

ANNA, COMTESSE de BR^MONT 



" For she ie a daughter of Odin's line. 
With the Norseman's blood in her veins ; 
And her soul it is bound to the souls of the Gods 
That reign o'er the boreal plains t " 



NEW YORK 
1892 



^0^3 i^)(^ 



Copyright, 1892, bt 

ANNA, COMTESSE de BREMONT, 

Neb DUNPHY. 



Press of J. J. Little & Co. 
Astor Place, New York 



TO MY HUSBAND, 

LE COMTE LEON de BREMONT, 

Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur, 

THE MEMORY OF WHOSE TENDER LOVE AND 

PASSIONATE DEVOTION 

INSPIRED THESE POEMS— 

THE SOLACE OF MANY SAD HOURS— 

I LOVINGLY DEDICATE 

THIS LITTLE BOOK. 



COIfTEI^TS. 



SONNETS. 

PAGE 

A Sequence op Sonnets. 

I. In the Land of Gold, 3 

II. Night on the Reef, 4 

III. O'er the Veldt, 5 

IV. In the Ranch, 6 

V. Love's Consummation, 7 

VI. Love's Knowledge, 8 

VII. In Absence, 9 

VIII. Expectancy, 10 

IX. Jealousy, 11 

X. A Plea, 12 

XL Reconciliation, 13 

XII. Finis, 14 

Morn on the Cape. 

I. Dawn, 15 

II. Fore-glow, 16 

III. Sunrise, 17 

Midnight Tide on the Cape, 18 

Athwart the Equator, . . . . , 19 



vi CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

To Death, . 20 

The Parting of the Year, 21 

LOVE POEMS. 

Love, 25 

Love's Desire, 26 

Cleopatra, 27 

Cleopatra's Dream, 28 

Cleopatra's Night on the Nile, 30 

The Arab Lovers, 32 

The Summer of Love, 39 

Love Unheeded, 41 

Have You Forgotten? 42 

The Chalet by the River, 43 

A Storm of Kisses, 45 

Stolen Kisses, 46 

Lost Kisses, 47 

A Fallen Star, 48 

Jilted, 49 

Danae, 51 

A Spirit Love, 55 

The Song of Sleep, 57 

The Soul of the Sapphire, 59 

Good Night, 63 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

My Sanctuary, 67 

The Picture on the Wall, . . p 69 



CONTENTS. vii 

^ PAGB 

A Fantasy, '^^ 

Oh, Night of Tears ! 72 

Death's Litany, '^^ 

A Dream of the Sea, 'J'4 

Song to the Southern Ocean, » . . 76 

The Good Ship Hope, 80 

The Song of the Leaves, 83 

A Woman of Long Ago, 83 

The Two Bands op Sisterhood, . 85 

The Toilers, .87 

The Dead Actor, 89 

To AN English Actor, 91 

My Mother's Glove, 92 

Christmas Morn, 94 

The Christmas Wreath, 97 

The Children's Christmas Dinner at Victoria Hall, 99 

Sister Claire's Confession, 102 

''She," 11^ 

To Clement Scott, 114 

To Galatea, 115 

The Belle of the Ballet, 116 

St. Valentine's Revenge, . . . 118 

The Gift of Song, 1^^ 

To My Mother, 1^1 



soivr]srETS. 



A SEQUENCE. 

I. 
IN THE LAND OF GOLD. 

Oil ! land of gold, thou art a land of love. 
Where sleeps mane's soul steeped in love's slum- 
berous wine. 
E^en sin here wears a countenance benign. 
As when Olympian gods held reign above. 
The luscious fever lust in thy dark sons 
Miasma-like creeps thro' the chillest blood. 
Until its subtle stream becomes a flood 
O'ersweeping sense and reason as it runs. 

And I, from lands across the cool, deep seas. 
Like some fair bird that flying singed its wing 
Athwart a crater's fiery, scorching breeze. 
Or lily drooping 'neath the poisoned sting 
Of honeyless tho' gold-bedizened bees. 
In Passion's summer — lost Love's holy spring ! 



SONNETS. 



II. 

NIGHT ON THE REEF. 

The sun has sunk, no tender gloaming cometh 

To soothe earth's burning breast ; up from the east 

Creeps the chill breeze of night now day hath 

ceased. 
List ! thro' the trees, like mystic music, hummeth 
The low sound of the night wind's sobbing tide. 
Hark ! the wild bird his mellow plaint doth tune ; 
Like pale proud beauty the yoluptuous moon 
Her cloudy couch doth press with silver side. 

And now the night doth grow more wondrous 

fair, 
A thousand shadows their weird arms up-toss. 
And beat with noiseless pulse the dewy air 
Above the veldt flowers sleeping 'mid the moss. 
Afar the planets stream with fiery hair 
Around the glory of the Southern Cross. 



A SEQUENCE. 



III. 
O'ER THE VELDT. 

How calm^ how soft, that beauteous Afric night 
When we together o^er the mossy veldt 
Our horses spurred ; we heard the silence melt 
Beneath their flying hoofs in onward flight. 
Ah ! ne^er a word we spoke, my Love and I. 
Our hearts beat quick with sweet foreshadowings. 
Our souls thrilled as a harp that answering sings 
When swept by some fair unseen spirit's sigh. 

What tho"* the road o'er vale and over mine 
And kopje lay, and night grew deeper still. 
When far ahead we saw the home-light shine, 
That sweet nest light — the ranch upon the 

hill ? 
Our horses leapt to see its out-span sign. 
Home swift they sped, as water to the mill ! 



SONNETS. 



IV. 

IN THE RANCH. 

The smiling moon a silent welcome cast 
Athwart the earthen floor, the bare brown walls 
Seemed fairer than a princess frescoed halls ; 
A moth whirled, glittering in the lamplight, past, 
Its golden life the nonce still brighter grown ; 
Fluttering translucent there within the glow. 
Hovering an instant o^er its gleaming foe. 
Then lost forever 'mid the flame's red zone. 

Was there no omen in the insect's doom ? 
Silent we stood within the threshold dim ; 
We heard afar the distant battery boom ; 
Our lips mixed, my shy eyes spake unto him. 
A sudden glory gilded all the room — 
Our cup of love foamed to the very brim ! 



A SEQUENCE. 



V. 

LOVE'S CONSUMMATION. 

Oh ! night brimful of bliss, when ne'er a thought 
Of past, of future, entered — when alone 
The present wove a garland, fragrant blown 
As roses, of the luscious hours love-wrought ; 
When our two souls transfused by passion's fire 
Together grew, till they became as one. 
E'en as eclipse doth blend the moon and sun. 
So merged we in the heaven of desire. 

Then lo ! a wondrous spell seemed round us 

spun. 
In that mysterious moment face to face 
We stood with Love, and his sweet secret won ; 
Our throbbing hearts met in a soft embrace ; 
We felt our very life-sands quicker run 
In tumult wild to love's voluptuous pace. 



SONNETS. 



VI. 

LOVE'S KNOWLEDGE. 

Oh ! joy to be in lovers supernal mould 

Forever cast, aye, e'en to feel and know 

Another's soul with ours doth daily grow. 

And round our life its spirit-tendrils fold ; 

To know an answering thought speaks to our 

thought. 
As needle to the magnet bright doth turn ; 
To feel another's heart-beat throb and yearn 
Against our heart in sweetest throes love-wrought ! 

To quaff the waters clear of sympathy 
Together, from her magic flagon deep. 
Till life seems one long dream of rhapsody. 
Where joy and peace, like stars, their vigil keep 
Athwart the tide of love's great ecstasy. 
Whose waves shall e'en death's barrier over- 
sweep ! 



A SEQUENCE. 



VII. 
IN ABSENCE. 

There is no silence in tliis wild^ wild night ; 
The wind doth rage like lion overwrought. 
I sit alone and muse in quiet thought^ 
Dream-weaving in the candle's mellow light. 
But I am not alone ; near me doth sit 
Thine other self — it is thy soul I see ; 
And oh! how sweet the words it speaks to me. 
How warm the glow within its eyes, love-lit ! 

And this it tells me — it has come to cheer 
My lonely hours of work and study deep. 
To soothe me for the absent kiss so dear. 
And watch while I my toilsome vigil keep. 
Thus, love, unto each other we are near 
By day, by night, e^'en waking and asleep ! 



10 SONNETS. 



VIII. 

EXPECTANCY. 

How sweet the summer night pales ^neath the 

moon. 
Like the rise and fall of its trembling mists. 
My soul is swayed as it longingly lists 
For thy dear step that ne'er cometh too soon. 
The moments seemingly tread like the hours, 
I hear the echoes of strange passing feet 
Keeping time to my heart's impatient beat. 
As I think of the night that shall be ours. 

At last thou art come ! and in sweet surprise 
Thine arms doth enfold and thrill me with 

bliss ; 
E'en my pulse doth leap to the sound of thy 

sighs. 
My soul is drunk with thy lingering kiss. 
Till I faint 'neath the rapture in thine eyes. 
Was ever Expectancy crowned like this ? 



A SEQUENCE. U 



IX. 

JEALOUSY. 

There is a blight that creeps like dankling mist 
Adown the slopes of some fair mountain side, 
And in its clammy folds doth deeply hide 
The smiling vale the sun so warmly kist. 
There is a subtle secret canker blight ; 
Up-grows a worm within the rosy fruit ; 
A blight whose deadly tendrils oft take root 
Within the sweetest flower's beauty bright. 

Likewise a chilling shadow slowly crept 
Between our hearts, a mist of doubt, foul-born 
Of Envy's breath ; Love drooped his head and 

wept 
Slow, bitter tears, to feel the blight of scorn. 
Forgot all speech — his very kisses slept 
Unchallenged on his pining lips forlorn ! 



12 80NNETS. 



X. 

A PLEA. 

Is there no charm in a remembered kiss 
To woo thee to forget a hasty word ? 
Is there no memory of the love that stirred 
Thine inmost being with deep passion's bliss ? 
Is there no thought, e'en of those happy nights. 
When 'neath the cradle of the moon we found — 
Whilst music spread her mantle of sweet sound — 
A joy supreme surpassing all delights ? 

My heart G-rief's burning finger deeply sears ; 
Pale the rose-chain wherewith thou decked my 

hair ; 
Behold ! e'en as its petals 'neath my tears 
Died lingeringly, regret doth me ensnare. 
My soul is sinking 'neath a pall of fears ; 
Whilst I for thee doth hunger in despair ! 



A aEQUENCE. 13 



XL 

EECONCILIATION. 

How sweet the meeting of estranged hearts, 
When dear Forgiveness spreads her sacred balm 
Of grateful tears, and smiles a sunny calm 
Athwart Lovers sky a rainbowed light imparts. 
Then Love renewed from holier birth doth spring 
Chastened, refined within affliction's fire. 
To golden realms of happiness still higher 
He plumes his joyous flight on strengthened wing. 

More sweet the joy of fond possession seems. 
More dear the treasure of the refound prize. 
More warm the kiss, more bright the smile 

that beams 
With deepened light in my beloved's eyes. 
But oh ! more rapturous far, to wake from 

dreams. 
And feel Love's throbbing heart that on mine 

lies ! 



14 SONNETS, 



XII. 

FINIS. 

Oh ! Love, ^tis best that love's brief span should 

end. 
Lost in the gloom and shrouded light of death, 
Where steal no tears — not e'en the trembling 

breath 
Of sigh or moan can that long silence rend. 
Dear Love ! the grave doth hold thee fast and deep. 
Its cold embrace now mars thee with decay. 
Poor eyes, poor lips, ye no surprise betray — 
So merciful, so quiet thy last sleep. 

Yea, Love ! 'Tis best love's life has ended so. 
In sweet fruition's mellowed bloom and flower, 
Tho' numbered here, love's days have caught 

the glow 
That shines athwart the Eternal's glorious 

bower. 
There, soul to soul, remembered joys we'll 

know. 
And love immortal be our blissful dower. 



SONNET, 15 



MORN ON THE CAPE. 
I. DAWN. 

Slow waned the night — the faithful white-leaved 

friend^ 
That wooed my watch with sweet poetic lore. 
Fell from my heedless hand upon the floor. 
As Sleep, soft Sleep, her wings did o'er me bend. 
Soon stole the pale clear hour 'twixt day and night. 
The candle by my couch waxed dim and wan. 
When crept a pink-tipped finger of the dawn 
My pillow near, and woke my sleeping sight. 

Then swift the shuttered casement wide I flung, 
Gazed out across the dreaming sea below. 
Whose white-capped surf a low-voiced matin 

sung; 
Far Afric's peaks dark loomed against the 

glow 
Of gold that on the sky's gray edges hung. 
Like some celestial river's overflow. 



16 SONNET. 



II. FORE-GLOW. 

And now more amber-hued^ more luminous grows 
The tide of light athwart the horizon's brim, 
Uplighting peak and sombre mountain dim ; 
Gray melts to pearl, and pearl to faintest rose ; 
An opal-tinted splendor bathes the sky. 
The clouds seem in a rainbowed haze to swim 
Adown the blushing west, whose purpled rim 
Pales violet, as nighty's dark vapors die. 

An iris-tinted sheen creeps o'er the sea. 
And o'er the sleeping town, all wan and white 
Gleam cottage, spire, and roof : while every tree 
And shrub beneath the tabled-mountain's height 
Drinks in the glow ; with silent quivMng glee 
Breathless awaits the world the god of light ! 



SONNET. 17 



III. SUNRISE. 

Lo ! o^er yon mountain's blue and jagged crest 
Behold ! the glow, like gate of Paradise. 
A thousand rays their flaming swords uprise 
All ruddy, gold and silvered amethyst. 
Far out across the sea each phantom light 
Fades on the swinging mast, while bark and ship 
Start into waking life, and gayly dip 
The rosy prow ^mid waters ruby bright. 

With slow majestic pace and lurid blaze 
Upstreams the glorious God of sea and earth. 
The dazzled heavens revel in his rays. 
Mountain and wave reflect their golden mirth ; 
The fair white town sings forth a hjrmn of praise 
In joyous psean to the new day's birth. 



18 SONNETS. 



MIDNIGHT TIDE ON THE CAPE. 

Away, across the waters dark and wide. 
Far, far as eye and Fancy's wing can fly. 
From out the arms of amorous sea and sky. 
Forth springs a sprite, it is the midnight tide ! 
Her feet are silvery white, her robes of spray 
Hide all her beauty in a mist of light 
Caught from the stars, as on in dazzling flight 
She leaps and frolics towards the Table-bay. 

Aloft her snowy arms with glee she flings. 
In rhythm to the waves' melodious tune. 
Till, maddened as the music fiercer rings. 
Upon the rocks she sinks in sighing swoon 
An instant ; back into the sea she springs. 
To speed away, low laughing at the moon ! 



ATHWAET THE EQUATOR. 19 



ATHWART THE EQUATOR. 

Radiant and slow, the velvet waters o^er, 
Uprose the golden crescent of the moon, 
Tinging with mellow light the night's blue noon. 
Thrusting ajar the morning's purpled door. 
Sweet smile the stars and answering coos the breeze. 
Quiescent breathe the billows in their sleep, 
Nestled within the Equator's cradle deep. 
Whence flows the foam-tipped nectar of the seas. 

On, on, and on, smooth sails our trusty ship. 
Full-freighted with its load of throbbing hearts. 
The sparkling eye, the oft-kissed ruby lip. 
Beams with the joy the fleeting hour imparts. 
All in a world our own we careless sip 
The wine of life, brewed 'mid the ocean-marts. 



20 SONNETS. 



TO DEATH. 

Oh ! cruel death, shalt thou never grow old. 
Will thy hand its merciless task ne'er cease, 
Thine arms wilt thou never cast down in peace. 
And round thee forever thy mantle fold ? 

Oh ! phantom king, thou hast stolen away 
The soul of my love, to thy regions dim. 
If thou hast pity— ah ! whisper to him, 
A chaplet of tears on his heart I lay ! 

Whisper, that Memory shall ceaselessly sob 
Her song of requiem o'er the dead past. 
Love's sorrowing heart shall wearily throb — 
Love's eyes be dimmed by thy shadow o'ercast. 
Press on those lips, thou didst ruthlessly rob 
For me one long tremulous kiss — the last ! 



THE PARTING OF THE YEAR. 21 



THE PAETING OF THE YEAR. 

The midnight hour had come. With tearful eyes 

And sad the Old Year strained I to my breast. 

For we were loth to part — his lips I pressed 

All tenderly in answer to his sighs. 

A generous lover he ; to say good-bye 

Wrung heart and soul, bowed was his head and 

chilled 
The hand with gifts and blessings lately filled. 
^Twas hard to part — the dear Old Year and I. 

Lo ! as he lingered, came thro^ casement pane 

A silvery summons echoing far and near. 

He faltered, trembled, gasped, then thrust 

at wain 
The casement, vanished in the starlight clear, 
No vestige leaving of his happy reign. 
While hand in hand stood I and the New Year ! 



LOYE POEMS. 



LOVE. 

From whence he does come and whither he goes. 
There is not a mortal in all the world knows. 
He comes in a smile, he goes in a kiss. 
He dies in the birth of a maiden^s bliss. 
He wakes in a tear, he lives in a sigh. 
He lingers in hope, refusing to die ; 
But whence he does come, and whither he goes. 
There is not a mortal in all the world knows ! 



26 LOVE POEMS. 



LOVERS DESIRE. 

Make of thine arms a wreath. Love ! 

Entwine me in its link. 
Make of thy lips a cup. Love ! 

Where kisses I may drink. 

Make of thine eyes a torch. Love I 
The happy hours to light. 

Make of thy smile a dream. Love ! 
To fill with joy the night. 

Make of thy voice a song. Love ! 

That shall forever sing. 
Make of thy heart a throne. Love ! 

And crown me as its king. 



CLEOPATRA, 27 



CLEOPATRA. 

I. 

Of human love the queen. 
Wanton, and bold, yet coy ; 
Euling by womanly mien. 
Danger and death thy toy. 

II. 

A thousand women^s eyes 
In thine mysterious shine ; 
A thousand lovers' sighs 
Around thy name entwine. 



38 LOVE POEMS. 



CLEOPATEA'S DREAM. 

Oh Antony ! 

Last night, in dreams, again 

I felt your kisses rain 

Upon my lips, till through 

Them all my soul you drew. 

And soon I trembling felt 

Those kisses softly melt 

Warm on my neck, and rest 

Upon each heaving breast. 

But oh ! how hot they fell 

Above my heart, ah, well ! 

Just then I woke, — Alas ! 

So sweet a dream should pass. 

And leave me longing still. 

To feel those kisses thrill 

All through the night. 
My heart's delight. 



Oh Antony I 
Again upon me fell 
A dream, and in its spell 
I passionately bound 
You with my limbs around — 



CLEOPATRA'S DREAM, 29 

I felt your arms enfold 
Me^ and you closely hold 
Me^ and I felt your heart 
Throb — throb — and wildly start 
As Love's rapturous pain 
ThrilFd mad through every vein. 
Glowing, your lips on mine 
Burned like some sweet hot wine ; 
And when you sank to rest. 
Faint, panting, on my breast. 
Within my arms I kept 
You — as you softly slept. 

All through the night ! 

Egypt's delight. 



30 LOVE POEMS. 



CLEOPATEA^S NIGHT ON THE NILE. 

I. 

Away on the green flowing river. 

Last eve, ^neath the moon^s silver shiver. 

In my silk curtained boat, 

I wandered afloat. 

Alone, with my slaves at the helm. 

The waves, and the sky^s spangled realm. 

II. 

On my bosom the red roses grouped 

^Neath my hot pulses withered and drooped. 

And the pink flesh I tore 

Where thy lips wandered o'er. 

Till my heart seemed to sink in a swoon. 

As I poured out my woes to the moon ! 

III. 

For, with yearning, sore-sick was my heart. 

Faint with hungering for thee, far apart 

'Mid Eomans, my Roman, 

Thou dearest of f oemen, 

Till I prayed the Nile's pearly billow 

Would steep me in Lethe's cold pillow. 



CLEOPATRA'S NIQHT ON THE NILE. 31 

lY. 

But the wave danced, and shimmered, and sung. 

O'er my couch, its spray mockingly flung ; 

But it cooled not my breast, 

Nor my eyelids, oppressed 

With the night's sleepless longing and ache. 

Till I writhed like a slave at the stake. 

V. 

Oh ! the tongue of the breeze like a flame 

Licked and scorched, where you kisses would claim. 

Like a river of fire 

Leapt my blood with desire 

To hold you, to fold you, to press you. 

With lips and with arms to caress you ! 

VI. 

Afloat on the green flowing river. 

Last night, 'neath the moon's silver shiver. 

While all the world slept. 

With madness I wept 

For thou of the Eomans, my Roman, 

Love's swordsman, thou dearest of foemen ! 



32 LOVE POEMS. 



THE AEAB LOVERS. 

" Farewell, love ! while thy caress 
Still thrills on my lips. 
Farewell ! for the day wanes less. 
And the great sun dips 
His fiery head in the west. 
The hot winds away 
O^er the desert's burning breast 
Sweep after the day. 
Farewell ! — ah ! — one long deep kiss. 
^Twill brighten the hours 
Of night's dark dreary abyss 
With dreamland flowers. — 
On eyes — on lips — on hand — 
Hot thy kisses cling — 
Farewell ! to my father's band 
I fly on the wing 
Of my brave wild Arab steed. 
'Tis death here to dwell — 
Away ! away, I must speed 
Till the morn — Farewell ! " 

'^ Nay — speed not over the plain. 
For the night creeps near. 
The hour of the lion's reign 
Will soon, soon be here. 



TEE ARAB LOVERS. 33 

The panther^s eye gleaming greed. 

With dull glare alight, 

AVill track thee as on thoii^U speed 

Ihrough the darksome night. 

And bear thee a captive sweet 

To his bloody lair. 

And devour with hungry teeth 

Thy soft flesh so fair. 

And hell quench his cruel thirst 

In the sweet warm flood. 

As swift from thy blue veins burst 

The stream of thy blood. 

Till drunk with the crimson flow 

From thy tender breast. 

Hell sink in a gluttonous glow 

By thy side to rest ! " 

« • • • 

" Soul of my heart ! tremble not. 
For here in my arms. 
As we speed the desert hot, 
Eest safe from alarms ; 
In a dayat green and fair. 
Where the soft winds sigh, 
I will bear thee to my lair, 
^Neath the night^s deep sky. 
For I Lovers panther shall be. 
Thy sweets to devour. 
With rapturous panting glee 
As bee sucks the flower, 
3 



34 LOVE POEMS. 

The teeth of my kisses sting 

Deep thy bosom sweet. 

My lips shall hungering cling 

To thy slender feet. 

And over thy lips and eyes 

Burning kisses pour. 

And drink deep with happy sighs 

Of love's sweetest store ! 

The stars and the envious moon — 

And the glow-worm red — 

Shall pierce the night's paling gloom. 

To gloat o'er our bed ! 

And we'll kiss the hours away. 

Till the east unfurl. 

The banner of radiant day . 

In splendorous whirl ! " 

'Twas the darkest hour of night. 
For the moon hung low, 
And clouds in scurrying flight 
Swept over her glow. 
Afar in the purple east 
The stars, one by one. 
Their silvery vigil ceased. 
For the great red sun 
Would soon his fiery rim 
Shoot up through the gloom 
Of the far horizon's brim. 
To vanquish the moon. 



THE ARAB LOVERS. 35 

And a slumberous silence hung 

O^er the desert air — 

No longer their wild howl rung ; 

For hushed in their lair. 

The tiger and panther slept — 

But a mighty one 

Still roamed and stealthily crept, 

E^er the day begun. 

To the dayafs cooling shade. 

Where the waters sprung 

"Mid a green and mossy glade. 

Where sheltering hung 

The boughs of the desert tree. 

Came the lion brave. 

With his bold mane flowing free. 

In the spring to lave — 

And slowly his shadow fell 

O^er the sleeping pair. 

And amazed his eyes did dwell 

On the faces fair 

Of those lovers closely bound 

In abandon sweet. 

Heart to heart — smooth limbs enwound. 

While pulse to pulse beat ; 

As in dreams they felt again 

The rapturous kiss — 

The thrill — the sigh — and the pain 

Of Love's deepest bliss. 



36 LOVE POEMS. 

Slow fell his shadow away — 

And noiseless his stride. 

He stole in the moonlight ray 

To his tawny bride, 

Where, deep in her darksome den. 

He told her the tale 

Of the wondrous love of men, 

Till the night grew pale ! 

• • • • 

Slow the dawn with lambent flame 

Crept over the plain. 

Afar in its faint light came 

A shadowy train 

Of horsemen galloping on, 

Eor deadly intent. 

As hurrying with the dawn 

Swift speed to them lent. 

They sought the fugitive child 

Of their noble chief. 

Their hearts with revenge beat wild, 

For disgrace and grief 

In their chieftain^s proud breast burned. 

And in Allah^'s name 

Their course to the dayat turned. 

In silence and shame 

They gathered a dusky throng. 

And never a wave 

Of pity for youthful wrong 

Swept their purpose grave. 



THE ARAB LOVERS. 37 

Close around the sleeping pair — 

As in dreams they lay. 

Lip to lip and mingling hair. 

While the amber ray 

Of the morning softly stole 

With a tender kiss, — 

The last sad pitiful dole 

Of their short-lived bliss — 

Pressed the dark-brow^d Arab clan. 

Lo ! the chieftain's spear 
Flashed aloft — then deadly ran — 
Ne'er trembling with fear. 
Transfixed with swift cruel blow. 
With deadliest dart — 
In the stream of death's red flow. 
Their forms — heart to heart ! 

The moon with shimmering light 

Stole up through the sky. 

As on in hungry flight 

With fierce growl and cry. 

To the dayat's dainty feet. 

With red tooth and claw. 

Sped each hungry howling beast 

With ravenous maw, — 

To pause in the sombre glare 

Of the lion's eye. 

As he held his vigil there 

With his fierce mate nigh. 



38 LOVE POEMS. 

As mournful they crouched beside- 
With strange watchful grief — 
The dead Arab and his bride 
Through the night hours brief. 
While the moon her vigil kept. 
And the stars uprose. 
And the night-dews softly wept 
O'er their human woes ! 



THE SUMMER OF LOVE. 39 



THE SUMMEE OF LOYE. 

Fold thy wings, happy hour, and rest here awhile, 

^Neath the spell of her beanty and grace, 
^Mid the perfumed shadows my soul to beguile, 

^eath the flower-like charm of her face ; 
Let me drink in the music of lovers every tone. 

Like the whisper of angels above. 
Oh ! sweetest of women, for you — you alone. 

Is this hour of our summer of love. 



Oh ! sweet dreamy eyes all your splendour unveil. 

In their depths let me lingering gaze. 
Faint round us the roses their fragrance exhale. 

In the twilight^s pale mystical haze. 
On wings rosy tipped the daylight has flown, 

Venus glittering shines out above. 
Oh ! sweetest of women, for you — you alone. 

Is this hour of our summer of love. 



These soft trembling hands that I fold warm in 
mine. 

Pressing close to my fast-throbbing heart — 
These fair golden tresses sweet scented like wine. 

Of thy beauty a glorious part ; 



40 LOVE POEMS. 

These lips where dwell kisses, the sweetest e^er 
known. 

Filled with rapture all pleasures above, 
Oh ! sweetest of women, are mine — mine alone, 

In this hour of our summer of love. 



LOVE UNHEEDED. 41 



LOVE UNHEEDED. 

I. 

Groping in the darksome way 
And drear, where buried lay 
The love of bygone years. 
My spirit wandered. 
Sank down and pondered 
Weary, in a vale of tears. 

II. 

Musing sad, in doubt and fear. 
She knew not Love stole near. 
Laughing low at sigh and moan. 
Heard not the winging — 
Felt not the stinging 
Of his shaft— till he had flown ! 



42 LOVE POEMS. 



HAVE YOU FORaOTTEN? 

Have you forgotten the bright happy hours 

That smiled on our summer of love, 
When we gathered sweet sympathy's flowers. 

And prized them all others above ? 
Have you forgotten the long happy nights. 

Of music and melody's song. 
When your eyes told love's tale 'mid flowers and 
lights. 

And hum of the gay brilliant throng ? 
Oh ! dearer than life was love's gracious boon — 
Have you forgotten that sweet spell so soon ? 

Have you forgotten the future we saw 

In the firelight glimmering dim ? 
The glorious future, years without flaw. 

With love filling life to the brim. 
Have you forgotten the vows whispered low. 

In the hush of tremulous light. 
The promise — the kisses that throbbed with love's 
glow. 

The pledge of that rapturous night ? 
Oh ! dearer than life was love's precious boon. 
Have you forgotten that sweet spell so soon ? 



THE CHALET BY THE RIVER, 43 



THE CHALET BY THE KIVER. 

By the river^s rippling flow. 
Where the soft winds fragrant blow. 
And the shadows stretch below 
Where the fishes come and go. 
And the stately swan-birds lave 
In the green and sunny wave. 
My love and I together, 
In the golden summer weather. 
Laughed and sang the hours away. 
Where the sunshine dreaming lay. 

In the chalet by the river. 



There we watched each little boat. 

Gaily laden past us float. 

As we heard each silvery note. 

From the song-bird^s downy throat. 

Thrilling all the long day through 

'Neath the hazy summer blue ; 

Where the cloud-boats idly fly, 

O^'er the river of the sky. 

In our hearts deep rapture sank. 

As from love's sweet cup we drank, 

In the chalet by the river. 



44 LOVE POEMS. 

When the tender gloaming fell. 

With its shadowy mystic spell. 

Over river, vale, and dell. 

In deep solitude to dwell. 

My love and I fond plighted 

Our troth in bliss united. 

While our hearts sweet rhythm kept. 

As the moonlight softly crept. 

Slyly through the latticed rail. 

Listening to love's happy tale. 

In the chalet by the river. 



A STORM OF KISSES. 45 



A STORM OF KISSES. 

What bliss is there in all the world 
To equal that when love unfurled 
His crimson flag, while passion whirFd 
The soul, and then exulting hurl'd 
Within the heart's abyss, 
A burning luscious kiss ! 

A kiss that lip to lip fast bound, 
Sending the hot blood coursing round 
Through every purple vein that wound 
Its supple way, until it drowned 

With crimson burning rush. 
That sweet kiss in a blush ! 

And swift another kiss was born 
To live one rapturous moment warm. 
Then softly die beneath the storm 
That blazed in eyes whom love did arm 
With tender glances there. 
Kisses to still ensnare ! 

Oh ! then a storm of kisses sent 
O'er lips and eyes hot ravishment. 
On cheek and neck their fury spent. 
And resting there in sweet content 
To blend in one long kiss. 
And melting, die in bliss. 



46 LOVE POEMS. 



STOLEN KISSES. 

There are kisses that purple the lips where they 

press. 
Until swollen with passionate maddening greed ; 
There are kisses that fall like a holy caress. 
Sacred seal of the true lovers^ heavenly creed. 

There are kisses that burn with a sweet subtle fire. 
Like the glow in the heart of golden old wine ; 
There are kisses that swoon in the wave of desire. 
As it sweeps o'er the soul in a rapture divine. 

But oh ! the most thrilling, the sweetest of kisses, 
Are the kisses that silently fall like the dew. 
The sweet stolen kisses — that nobody misses. 
The sly pilfered kisses — that never are true ! 



L08T KISSES. 47 



LOST KISSES. 

Oh ! where are the kisses we gave that night 
In the golden spring of Love's blushing year ; 

Oh ! where the kisses we gave when the light 
Of its radiant morn dawned bright and clear ? 

Oh ! where the kisses that slept on my breast — 
Oh ! where the kisses that fell on mine eyes — 

Oh ! where the kisses, the sweetest and best. 
That clung to my lips with lingering sighs ? 

Lost kisses, I fain would gather ye back 
Where'er on the shore of the Past ye be. 

'Twould be more than mortal could do — alack ! 
For ye would outnumber the sands 0' the sea ! 



48 LOVJE POEMS. 



A FALLEN STAK. 

The heavens are raining stars to-night 

Athwart the southern sea. 
And one I've caught in its golden flight, 

A captive for you and me. 

It shall be our world, this fallen star. 

Its silence to life we'll thrill 
With the music of kisses echoing far 

O'er dreamy river and hill. 

The voice of love shall alone be heard 

In its silent stately halls ; 
The fire of love shall alone be stirred 

'Mid its frozen crystal walls. 

Oh ! waif of the silver midnight sky, 
'Neath the Southern Cross afar 

We'll live, we'll love, aye ! we'll never die. 
In thy realm, oh ! fallen star. 



JILTED. 49 



JILTED. 

So 'tis sin to love you^ my sweet ! 

Oh, God ! can it be. 
That the love which tenderly beat. 

Between you and me. 
Should change to an unholy thing, 

At a word — the spell 
Of a white-robed priest and a ring. 

The chime of a bell? 

Let me look in your fair, false face. 

'Tis ever the same. 
With its beauteous lines of grace 

In its ruddy frame. 
How oft as IVe sailed the deep seas 

Those eyes were my light — 
While your voice echoed on the breeze 

Through my watch at night. 

IVe seen your smile many a time 

Flash out of the wave. 
It's held me in every clime 

'Mid the gay and grave. 
Oh, God, was it only for this 

I've loved you these years. 

To feel all my hopes and my bliss 

Melt swift as my tears ! 
4 



50 LOVE POEMS. 

And here is your poor little ring ; 

Its mission is done. 
See ! I crush the frail golden thing. 

As I would — false one ! — 
The life in your treacherous heart. 

Ah ! time sets all aright. 
He's slow, but hell sure play his part 

To revenge me— G-ood-night ! 



BANAE. 51 



DANAE. 

Within a brazen chamber cavern'd deep. 
Where flickering lights their shadowy vigils keep. 
And royal skins, torn from some lion's lair. 
Their tawny splendour scatter everywhere. 
While jewelled shrines reflect the amber light. 
Low-burning at their gods through all the night. 
Destined to hold its dreaming sombre sway 
Through years untold — the sleeping Danae lay. 

A watchful slave slow-fanned the perfumed air. 
Another thrilled the silence hovering there. 
As from the lute low melody she swept. 
That like the breeze of summer softly crept 
Thro" every dream that cast its silver spell 
O'er drooping lids, and snowy bosom's swell. 
O'er all her charms and glorious grace of limb, 
As like a pearl within the purple rim 
Of her soft couch the prison'd Danae slept. 
While tender cadence sweetest measure kept. 

And as the music-flowing rhythm falls 

And rises, all its melody recalls 

Her childhood's years, and 'neath its dreamy strain 

She sees the sunshine and the summer rain. 



52 LOVE POEMS. 

She feels the night breeze fan her tresses fair. 
She gazes on the moon's bright bosom bare. 
She stretches forth her hand in joyous bliss. 
And wafts to every silver star a kiss ; 
And as her dreams' sweet visions fade away. 
Her soul yearns for the banished light of day. 
As mournfully her waking glances fall 
Around the shadow of her prison's wall. 

'' Cease ! Myros, thy lute's sweet heavenly strain. 
'Tis only in dreams I hear without pain 
Its mellow note — Clito, bind up my hair. 
The breeze of my dream seems lingering there ; 
I fain would forget the green earth above. 
The stars and the moon, the sunlight and love." 
Then fast-falling tears bedimmed her bright eyes. 
And jewelled the gauze that fluttering lies 
Across her white breast, where longing and grief 
Found vent in sad sighs and tearful relief. 
'^ Begone ! gentle slaves, I'd fain be alone. 
The Gods I'll implore my fate to atone." 



Then swiftly away they silently stole. 

While Danae poured out all her passionate soul 

In a prayer laden down with piteous words. 

That, wavering, strove like poor fettered birds 

To feebly sever the pitiless snare 

That bound her, and held her a prisoner there. 



DANAE, 53 

'^ Helios ! Helios ! hear me," she cried, 

'^ Giver of sunshine, lifers glory and pride. 

Am I forever to bear this sad lot, 

Through fear and a hatred paternal begot ? 

Break, scatter my bonds, these brazen walls burst. 

For sunshine, for love, and freedom I thirst ; " 

Away on a sigh the plaintive prayer wings 

Its flight where perpetual melody sings. 

And Zeus in his dreaming heard the faint sigh. 

As it sank on his breast to trembling lie. 

'^ 'Tis a maiden's breath," he wakening cried, 
^' The sigh of a maid IVe sought far and wide ; 
Lead me, sweet messenger, to her abode," 
And straightway his golden chariot he strode ; 
On the wings of the sigh exultingly spread. 
Plunged thro' the veil of the morn's rosy bed. 
Thro' star-blazoned clouds, and swiftly was whirl'd 
On the brow of the earth's fair flow'ry world. 
Ceasing not his sweeping, luminous flight. 
Till he flooded with streams of radiant light 
The caverned gloom, dispelled with his glow 
The darkness of years that reign'd there below, 
Eevealing the sumptuous beauty and grace 
Of Danae's fair form and starry-eyed face. 

Zeus then in a moment of mad desire. 
Transformed by the charm of love's potent fire. 
His Grod-f orm changed to a shower of gold. 
Enveloping in his amorous fold 



54 LOVM poems. 

Each ivory-tinted, rose-tipped breast. 

Each fair rounded limb with rapture caressed. 

Swift rent in his longing fiery haste. 

The zone circled round her sup|)le white waist. 

Then deep burned the sting of each golden kiss. 

And wild thrilled her heart wdth answering bliss ; 

With strange new delight, with rapturous pain 

Was born the knowledge that never would wane, 

Ne^er leave her life void, but like some fair noon, 

Ensplendour, enripen her with its sweet bloom. 

Soon o^er her senses a subtle spell hung, 
The god^s golden kisses burningly clung — 
Weary with ecstasy, melting to rest 
In the billowy cradle of her breast. 



A 8PIRIT LOVE. 55 



A SPIEIT LOVE. 

IVe sought for love through all the year. 

Unceasing sought both far and near. 

Longing again to fondly rest 

Upon some loving faithful breast;, 

Seeking a kindred soul to find. 

That through sweet sympathy would bind 

Our life together in its spell. 

And never for one hour to dwell 

Apart, alone, but ever near. 

Bound closely in those chains so dear ; 

But I have sought, alas ! in vain. 

Through tears and bitterness and pain. 

Once in a singer^s mellow voice 

Its tone made all my heart rejoice. 

Here dwells the love I seek, I cried. 

But when the song had ceased — love died. 

Again I thought I saw it shine 

In eyes that gazed deep into mine ; 

I only saw reflected there 

The love that I alone did bear. 

And once again I thought I felt 

Its thrill, as on my lips there dwelt 

A kiss, so sweet, so warm, — alas ! 

E^en as it burned I felt love pass. 



56 LOVE POEMS 

A poet^s verse my soul deep-stirred. 
Love breathed in every glowing woid. 
But like a dream supremely fair 
It vanished — e^er I held it there. 
But why should Love, who seeketh ever 
Me to bind, his chains thus sever ? 
Because a spirit love doth claim. 
And jealous guard the sacred flame 
That glows and burns within my heart. 
Clear, bright, and pure, from earth apart, 
Until death's portals wide are thrown, 
And to that love my soul hath flown. 



TEE SONG OF SLEEP. 57 



THE SONG OF SLEEP. 

When Sleep, sweet Sleep, with silent band. 
Steals near my couch to softly lay 
On weary eyes her gentle hand — 
Swift vanish all the cares of day. 
Then one by one that silent throng 
Prepare to follow Sleep^s command 
And weave into my dreams a song, 
A song too sweet for mortal land. 

They sing through all the long dark night 

In tones so wildly, strangely sweet — 

Of hopes fulfilled and joy's delight. 

And far-off friends once more to greet. 

And then of love they softly sing. 

Of love restored, until each strain 

Thrills through my heart and seems to bring 

The happy Past all back again. 

For Love is mine once more to hold — 
Kiss back to life its dear dim eyes. 
Close to my trembling heart to fold 
The shadow of those severed ties. 
Then rapturous tears my pillow steep. 
As round me those sweet visions press 



58 LOVE POEMS. 

With wondrous song, till softly Sleep 
Veils all in deep forgetfulness. 

And when the dawn of waking day, 
Full freighted with a thousand cares. 
Creeps to my couch to rudely lay 
On slumbering eyes her hand, and tears 
With ruthless grasp the veil apart. 
That Sleep, sweet-lidded, wove in vain. 
Still sings the song within my heart, 
The echo of my dream^s refrain ! 



TEE SOUL OF THE SAPPHIRE. 59 



THE SOUL OF THE SAPPHIEE. 

How soft upon my hand it shone, 

A pledge of love, that azure stone. 

So deep and pure its every tone. 

Like sea wavers heart when gently blown. 

It seemed within its depths to hide 
A secret from the ocean wide. 
Was it a tear from some pale bride. 
Above whose grave the blue waves glide ? 

It might have been a star that fell. 
And, caught within the sea's deep well. 
For ages frozen there did dwell 
Beneath some mermaid's mystic spell. 

Perchance she decked her flowing hair 
With its blue glim'ring beauty rare. 
Or caught it 'mid the flowers fair. 
Across her snowy bosom bare. 

And oft some fancy made me think. 
Within its beauty slept a link 
To that far world upon whose brink 
The soul to rest doth calmly sink. 



60 LOVE POEMS. 

One night when soft-eyed sleep had flown. 
And silence reigned the world alone. 
My heart with sorrow tempest-blown 
To my lost love seemed nearer grown. 

With tears I bathed the holy ring 

That to my life his love did bring. 

And as my kisses warm did cling 

There chanced a strange mysterious thing ! 

Beneath my lips I felt it thrill. 
As though some wondrous power did fill 
The jeweFs heart with pulse and will. 
To bid my tears and grief be still. 

And as I gazed in rapt surprise 
Within the sapphire^s depths, two eyes 
Shone out as blue as summer skies. 
Beneath a brow of angel guise. 

And lo ! a lovely spirit face 
Smil'd sadly with a shadowy grace. 
Yet seemed to hold no form or place 
Within the sapphire's gleaming space. 

And then I breathless seemed to hear 
A voice, that on my listening ear 
Fell with a music soft and clear 
As far-off bells that echo near. 



THE SOUL OF TEE SAPPHIRE. 61 

'^ I am a maiden's soul/' it said, 
^' Imprisoned in this sapphire bed. 
Through many countless years now fled 
My being's numbered with the dead. 

'' The soul of him I loved doth keep 
A weary vigil 'neath the deep. 
While hopeless longings sadly steep 
With bitterness his dreamless sleep. 

'' A mariner he was of old. 
Who sailed the seas with bark of gold ; 
He would have been my bridegroom bold. 
Had not the waters o'er him roll'd. 

'^ True is thy heart ; I've felt it beat 
For him whose soul you long to meet. 
Ah ! by that love you hold so sweet, 
Eelease me, my lost love to greet." 

Then faint and low the sweet voice grew. 
As in the sapphire's deep'ning hue. 
With tearful smile, those eyes of blue 
Slow faded from my wondering view. 

And then I woke to find it all 
A dream, whose spell did o'er me fall. 
And with its mystic power recall 
Some spirit from the grave's dark pall. 



62 LOVE POEMS. 

But never from my memory fled 
That strange sad message from the dead. 
And oft my wandering fancy led 
Me to that far-off ocean bed. 

Where in his bark, amid the gold. 
Slept that dead mariner of old, 
Whose weary soul did vigil hold 
For her he loved through years untold. 

And oft I trembling seemed to hear 
That pleading voice so low and clear — 
And feel the spirit presence near. 
That slept within my jewel dear. 



At last upon the summer sea. 
One eve, I set the sapphire free. 
Deep in the blue waves'* depths to be 
Lovers captive for eternity ! 



GOOD NI9HT. 63 



GOOD NIGHT. 

Silent the room — 
Thine empty place 
Where smiled thy face, 
Is wrapped in gloom. 

Dear Love — good night ! 

Still echoes near, 
Like whispering birds 
The sweet love-words. 
That thrilled mine ear. 

Oh ! Love — good night ! 

Tho^ far apart. 
In dreams we^ll meet 
And feel the beat. 
Of heart to heart. 

My Love — good night ! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



MY SANCTUARY. 

There is a chamber in my heart 
Sacred, from all the world apart. 
Trembling and sad within its door 
I enter, all my griefs to pour. 
Again, when pleasure's wreath has bound 
My soul and senses gaily round, 
I seek its silence, there to store 
Treasures of joys that are no more. 
And lo ! Love's mirage oft appears 
To rise in splendour — set in tears. 
Then in that chamber, steeped in gloom. 
My hopes of love I deep entomb. 

Around those chamber walls are spread 
The spirit pictures of the dead. 
My mother's face shines softly there. 
Framed in its wealth of auburn hair ; 
Her earnest eyes, with tender smile. 
Lifting my drooping soul awhile 
Out of the toil, above the strain 
jFor all this earthly loss and gain ; 
And in the shadow of her face 
Dimly another's eyes I trace — 
A father's features come and go. 
In memory's fitful ebb and flow. 



68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 

There happy hours of childhood dear 
Steal back on spirit wings to cheer 
The long sad days, the nights of thought 
Amid the pictures memory wrought ; 
But oh ! one face I ever see — 
Asleep — awake — it follows me. 
A noble beauty calmly lies 
On lips and brow and loving eyes. 
Tho' that brave heart's fond beat is still, 
That oft with rapture's pulse would thrill, 
Dear eyes, within thy depths still shine 
A husband's love — forever mine ! 



THE PICTURE ON TEE WALL. 69 



THE PICTURE ON THE WALL. 

Oh ! my eyes are aching 

With the tears that constant pour. 
Oh ! my heart is breaking 

For a face V\\ see no more. 
And my soul is sighing 

In my dreams the long night through. 
And my hopes are dying — 

As a flower parched for dew. 

Bless thee ! joys so fleeting ! 

For the memories sweet ye give. 
Of the rapturous meeting 

When "twas heaven but to live. 
And our hearts were beating 

Close, in unison divine, 
And thy lips, love greeting. 

Melted burningly on mine. 

But ^tis only dreaming 

When thy voice thrills sweet to me. 
And ^tis only seeming 

AVhen thy smiling face I see ; 
As the moon^s cold beaming 

Creeps past my couch to fall 
With its pale light streaming 

O'er thy picture on the wall. 



70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 



A FANTASY. 

In my low and narrow bed. 
Every dream forever fled. 
Cold earth pillowing my head, 
I shall sleep when I am dead. 

Oh ! that sweet unceasing rest, 
While the world above my breast. 
Struggling with its cares oppressed. 
Wakes no echo in my nest. 

Then o'er me slowly stealing. 
While I sleep, unheeding feeling. 
Past regret and vain appealing. 
Creeps decay, its spell revealing. 

In the shimmer of my hair 
It shall weave its grayness there, 
Touch my cheek, so round and fair, 
With a blemish past repair. 

And my eyes shall droop and melt. 
And my lips, where kisses dwelt. 
Wither 'neath the cruel stealth 
Of that last long kiss unfelt. 



A FANTA8T, 71 

And each curve and supple grace 
Of my form shall it efface. 
And death^'s hideousness replace 
All resemblance to my race. 

Then the earth^s mysterious power 
With new birth shall me endower. 
And 1^11 wake some sunny hour. 
On her breast a beauteous flower. 

And the sun^s caresses sweet < 

Stir my petalled heart to beat. 
Till my perfumed soul shall fleet. 
Swift my lost love's kiss to meet. 

And our mingled souls shall soar 
Far away, the wide world o'er. 
On through heaven's golden door. 
Into bliss forever more. 



72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



OH, NIGHT OF TEARS! 

I. 

Oil, night of tears ! deep in thy gloom 
The star of Hope thou dost entomb. 
While Care grim-visag^d watch doth keep. 
And Griefs tempestuous waves o'ersweep 
With bitterness the wearied soul. 
Then Memory sadly doth unroll 
With trembling hand her scroll of years. 
And dip them in thy flood, oh, tears ! 



II. 

Oh, night of tears ! a dawn shall rise 
Across thy drooping sombre skies. 
And sweep the clouds of sorrow by 
That darkly now across thee fly. 
Before its lambent glorious ray 
The dawn of Heaven^s endless day 
Shall banish all thy gloom and fears 
And bitterness, oh, night of tears ! 



DEATH'S LITANY. 73 



DEATH^S LITANY. 

Come back from the grave ! 

Oh. dear dead heart — 
Come back from the grave ! 

My sours best part — 
Come back from the grave ! 

To our desolate hearth. 
Come back from the grave ! 

For my lips are chill — 
Come back from the grave ! 

With thy kiss to thrill- 
Come back from the grave ! 

All my life to fill ! 
Come back from the grave ! 

To this empty space. 
Come back from the grave ! 

In my arms thy place — 
Come back from the grave. 

Lay thy face to my face ! 
Come back from the grave ! 

Oh ! thou happy past — 
Come back from the grave ! 

Let me hold thee fast — 
Come back from the grave ! 

Take me home at last ! 



74 MI8GELLANE0U8 POEMS. 



A DKEAM OF THE SEA. 

I dreamed I was sleeping 

Deep, deep 'neath. the sea. 
And a mermaid, weeping. 

Kept watch over me. 
Each amber tress gleaming 

Soft shadowed her face. 
Fair as the moon^'s beaming 

Her form I could trace. 
In the shimmer and blow 
Of the waves as they flow. 

And as I lay listening 

In silence and dread, 
^Mid the sea-weeds dim glistening 

I knew I was dead ; 
For round me faint ringing. 

Sweet, solemn, and slow. 
The mermaids were singing 

My requiem below. 

In the shimmer and blow 
Of the waves as they flow. 

From their coral nests trooping 
The pale-eyed fish come. 



A DREAM OF THE SEA. 75 

And round me all grouping 

In wondering hum. 
Their fins gently waving 

A sad welcome show. 
As I rest never craving 
Their treasures to know. 
In the shimmer and blow 
Of the waves as they flow. 

Then my hollow eyes turning. 

Gaze up through the deep 
With an infinite yearning. 

As past the ships sweep. 
And sometimes come straying 

Dear voices I know. 
And I hear them all praying 

For me sleeping low. 

In the shimmer and blow 
Of the waves as they flow. 



76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



SONG TO THE SOUTHERN OCEAN". 

I. 

Oh. ! sea so fair. 
Oh ! sea so bright, 
. With, waves forever leaping ; 
What treasures rare. 
What gems of light. 
Are in thy bosom sleeping I 

II. 

Oh ! sea so blue. 

Oh ! sea so cool. 
Oh ! sea forever fleeting ; 

Whence came thy hue. 

Whence came thy rule. 
Whence came thy waters seething ! 

III. 

Oh ! sea so deep. 

Oh ! sea so wide. 
Thy waves are ever singing 

Of spells you keep. 

Of scenes you hide. 
Where mermaids' songs are ringing ! 



SONG TO THE SOUTHERN OCEAN. 77 

ly. 

Oh ! sea so grand^, 

Oh ! sea so great. 
Oh ! sea with endless pinion — 

A gallant band 

Doth laugh at fate. 
And trust to thy dominion. 

V. 

Their ships sail out. 

Their ships sail in, 
Thy trackless billows over ; 

Thy dangers scout 

The port to win. 
Drop sail and land the rover ! 

VI. 

Oh ! sea of pearl. 

Oh ! sea of gold. 
Oh ! sea ^neath sunset flying — 

Within thy whirl. 

Within thy fold. 
How fare the dead men lying ? 

VII. 

Oh ! sea speak low. 

Oh ! sea tell true. 
The tale of their undoing. 

Doth blossoms glow 

With silver dew 
Their deep sea homes renewing ? 



78 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 

VIII. 

Doth mermaids wind 

Their green gold hair 
Around their dead hearts — weaving 

A chain to bind, 

A net to snare 
Their souls to endless grieving ? 

IX. 

Doth kisses fire 

Their lips so cold, 
With Lifers sweet spell returning — 

Doth dear Desire 

Her charms unfold 
''Neath mermaid^s glances burning ? 

X. 

Or, do they rest 

With sightless eyes. 
Within the bosomed hollow 

Of icy breast. 

The pulseless prize 
The mermaids love to follow ? 

XI. 

Oh ! sea of noon ! 

Oh ! sea of light ! 
Oh, sea of wondrous splendor ! 

I love thy moon, 

I love thy night. 
Thy gloaming, gleaming tender. 



SOIiG TO THE SOUTHERN OCEAN. 79 

XII. 

Sing on, oh sea ! 

Sing on, oh wave ! 
In thine own sublimity. 

Thy song so free. 

Thy chant so brave 
Of God and God's infinity. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE GOOD SHIP HOPE. 

Oil ! bright were the skies and radiant the days 

When the year was flowing in. 
And the good ship Hope in a golden haze 

We launched on the waves to win 
The harbor safe of that glorious shore. 

The land of success and peace. 
Where the tide of despair with moan and roar 

Shall sink and forever cease. 

Oh ! sombre the skies and dreary the days 

When the year was ebbing out, 
And the poor ship Hope in a misty haze 

Sank deep in the sands of doubt, 
All shattered her mast and tattered her sails 

And battered her prow and helm. 
With the seams and scars of a hundred gales 

"Mid adversity^s stormy realm. 

But we^ll dry our tears and we^ll laugh at fate, 
And we^ll rig her out again, 



THE GOOD SHIP HOPE. 81 

And old Captain Love and his trusty mate 
Shall guide her across the main ; 

And we^U freight her full with many a prayer 
For that shore beyond lifer's sea. 

Till into its harbour she^ll proudly bear, 
And God shall her anchor be ! 



82 MI8GELLANE0U8 POEMS. 



THE SONG OF THE LEAVES. 

Blow wind ! blow wind ! merrily sway 
Our cradle of branches in boisterous play. 

Pour rain ! pour rain ! beat on our boughs. 
Freshen and brighten, our drooping heads rouse. 

Beam sun ! beam sun ! gild us anew. 

Drink from our green cups the sweet morning dew. 

Sing birds ! sing birds ! deep in our shade. 
The long sunny hours, till daylight shall fade. 

Sleep moon ! sleep moon ! softly thy light 
"Woos us and lulls us to slumber — Good night ! 



A WOMAN OF LONG AGO. 83 



A WOMAN OF LONG AGO. 

An Allegory. 

There lived in the long, long ago 
A woman whose beauty, like wine. 

Thrilled men with a strange subtle glow 
Of happiness almost divine. 

Their hearts in her tresses she bound. 
Like birds snared in a golden net ; 

Their souls in her loveliness drowned. 
Like suns that forever are set. 

Their life with her red lips she drank. 
As a drunkard the deep cup drains. 

And the glance of her bright eyes sank 
Like dull fire in their throbbing veins. 

She cast them away one by one. 

This woman of long ago. 
Pale and dead from the snare she spun 

To the depths of bitterest woe. 



84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

And each lost life over her shed 
A bloom and a charm ever new, 

For the haunting eyes of the dead 
Ever gleamed from her eyes of blue. 

Her lips with their hot kisses shone, 
Eipe as grapes full of purple blood. 

While her voice with the dead men's tone 
Swept the world with melody's flood. 

With their flesh her 'round limbs were white. 
And the shadows her hair among 

Were the dews from their weeping sight. 
Bitter tears from the dead men wrung. 



She e'en lives in her splendor now. 
This woman of long, long ago. 

The jewels of shame on her brow. 
Her voice with the same magic flov/ 

As it rang in the olden time. 
In her riotous sumptuous bloom. 

And she revels in every clime. 

Laughing men to their endless doom. 



THE TWO BANDS OF SISTERHOOD, 85 



THE TWO BANDS OF SISTERHOOD. 

Hear ! The wail of womanhood. 

As from their haunt 

Of sin and want 
Creep the fallen sisterhood ; 

All through the night. 

Wayworn in flight. 
Wander the street sisterhood ; 

No friend is near, 

No love to cheer — 
God pity that sisterhood ! 

See ! The joy of womanhood. 

In silken sheen 

Like some fair dream. 
Behold ! the pure sisterhood ; 

Through festive night. 

In dance so light. 
Whirls the happy sisterhood ; 

Love is her slave. 

Nothing to crave. 
Blest, fortunate sisterhood ! 



86 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Shame ! Pitiless womanhood, 

As in thy right 

Of virtue^s might 
Thou spurn^st the lost sisterhood. 

Back to their haunt 

Of sin and want. 
Alas ! thou poor sisterhood. 

Is there no nest 

Where thou can rest 
Unsinning, frail sisterhood ? 

Behold ! The end of womanhood. 

As in his lair 

Death unites there 
The two bands of sisterhood. 

Forgiving all, 

^Neath his dark pall 
Soft sleep the pure sisterhood ; 

No sin to fear, 

God^s love is here 
To redeem thee, frail sisterhood. 



THE TOILERS. 87 



THE TOILERS. 

Wearily, wearily, work we all. 

Some for fortune and some for fame. 

Wearily, wearily, meet the call 

Of duty's voice through praise or blame. 

Some of us for mothers. 

Some of us for gain, 
Some of us for brothers. 

Some of us for pain. 

Steadily, steadily, toil away. 

Seeking our station to grace. 
Steadfastly, steadfastly, work or play. 

Filling each his rightful place. 

Through the night's gloom. 
Through the day's bloom. 

Through years that loom. 
Through our sad doom. 



88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Wearily, wearily, toil we on. 
Never to rest, never to wait. 

Wearily, wearily, all along 

Life's stormy road to Heav'n's gate. 



THE DEAD AGTOE. 89 



THE DEAD ACTOR. 

Oh ! eyes forever dim. 

And lips forever mute. 
Framed in thy coffin^s rim. 

Like some poor stringless kite. 
Is set thy poor dead face ; 

Forever done thy task. 
To charm with mimic grace ; 

Beneath death's fading mask. 
Thy art hath left no trace. 

Thy stage — the graveyard lone, 

Thy part — a sleeper low. 
Thy praise — the wind's sweet moan, 

When gentle breezes blow. 
Or summer storms o'ersweep 

With tears thy grassy mound. 
Where to thy slumber deep 

SJiall steal no waking sound. 
While Death his watch doth keep. 



90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Then shall the dead man's foe. 

On thy once busy brain. 
Feast, revel in the flow 

Of wit that doth remain. 
Creep in thy inmost heart. 

To live where love once beat. 
Devour with hungry dart. 

Slow melt with subtle heat 
Thy being's every part. 

Beyond grim death's decay 

Thy soul shall proudly soar. 
To meet in bright array 

Thy children gone before ; 
Creations of thy brain — 

Born of thy noble art. 
They greet thee once again. 

Each dear familiar part. 
Here ! is thy heaven's reign. 



TO AN ENGLISH ACTOR. 91 



TO AN ENGLISH ACTOR, 

WHO DIED OF FEVER, JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH AFRICA, 1890. 

Oh ! tenderly close the deep sunken eyes, 

Poor eyes that dimmed wearily. 
Hopelessly longing for fair distant skies 

Where home smiles so cheerily. 

On mute, pallid lips now reverently rest 

One last kiss, all tearfully 
For eyes that shall weep in the far, far west, 

And hearts ache— ah ! fearfully. 

Fold gently each cold, once eloquent hand, 

Forever now motionless ; 
Cast o'er him the pall of the Gold-field's sand. 

In death lies he portionless. 

^Twas only an actor that fell in the fight. 

His part playing valiantly. 
Where battled the town with the fever-blight. 

Like a soldier, died gallantly. 



92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



MY MOTHER'S GLOVE. 

^Tis but a faded glove, 

With fingers frayed and worn. 
It tells a mother's love. 

Through trial and suffering borne. 
The patient tender hand 

That throbbed within its fold, 
Now in a far-off land 

Lies motionless and cold. 

How eloquently pleads 

Each plaintive little crease. 
For life's unselfish deeds 

Of toiling without cease ; 
Of hours whose only light 

Was children's happy eyes, 
Cheering the dreary night, 

Brightening the sombre skies. 

It hath no lingering scent 
Of fashion's empty pride ; 



MY MOTHER'S GLOVE. 93 

No jewels flashing blent 

Beneath its mesh to hide ; 
But fragrance rare and old 

As thousand flowers lurk 
Within each wrinkled fold 

Of woman^s precious work. 

Oh ! faded silken glove. 

Thy gentle tenant now 
Bears in the life above 

The signet on her brow 
Of duty^s legacy ; 

Temptation^s storms withstood^ 
The pearl of purity. 

The crown of motherhood ! 



94 8MICELLANE0U8 POEMS. 



CHRISTMAS MOEN. 

There's a holy light like a beacon bright. 

Afar over land and sea. 
Soft its lambent ray o'er the broad earth plays 

With a rosy dancing glee. 
And the topmost peak of the mountains bleak 

Blush fair in the glowing morn. 
Over wood and tarn sweeps the glorious dawn 

To herald the Child- Christ born. 

White the sea- waves fling like an angel's wing 

The foam as their blue crests rise, 
While each gallant ship, with a skim and a dip. 

In the wind's lap speeding flies ; 
And the sailor's song is borne along 

The breeze of the golden morn. 
For joyous he sings as the mast he swings 

To herald the Child-Christ born. 

In the land of snow where the keen winds blow 
And the ice-king holds his sway, 



CHRISTMAS MORN. 95 

A glittering sheen on the plains is seen. 

As tribute to him they pay. 
While merrily sing with a peal and a ring 

The bells on the crystal morn. 
As gayly they chime with silvery rhyme 

To herald the Ohild-Ohrist born. 

To his sea-girt home, where^'er he may roam. 

Speed the thoughts of Briton's son. 
In city or plain, on the crested main. 

The heart of the absent one 
Again in his dreams with ecstasy seems 

To swell in the happy morn. 
As he hears the voice of his loved rejoice. 

To herald the Ohild-Ohrist born. 



In dreams borne along, he joins the glad throng. 

The riot and wassail gay ; 
And the boar's head bold as in Nowel old 

Brave crowns the feast of the day ; 
The holly's red blush 'mid the ivy's crush ; 

The mistletoe greets the morn 
With kisses to claim in love's holy name. 

To herald the Ohild-Ohrist born. 



96 MI8CELLANE0V8 POEMS. 

Then Charity sweet with most gracious feet 

Walks forth o^er the smihng land. 
To widow^s relief;, to fatherless grief. 

She bringeth a helping hand. 
For peace and good-will the whole world doth fill 

With the dawn of the Nowel morn. 
Let every heart sing a glad welcoming. 

To herald the Child-Christ born. 



TEE CHRISTMAS WREATH. 97 



THE CHEISTMAS WREATH. 

Oh ! Christmas wreath upon the wall. 

Within thine ivied space 
I see the years beyond recall, 

Amid thy leaves I trace 
The shadows of a happy past. 

When all the world was bright. 
And love its magic splendour cast 

O'er morn and noon and night. 

Oh ! Christmas wreath upon the wall, 

'Neath memory's tender spell 
A wondrous charm doth o'er thee fall. 

And round thy beauty dwell. 
Thine ivy hath the satiny sheen 

Of tresses I've caressed. 
Thy holly's crimson gleam I've seen 

On lips I oft have pressed. 

Oh ! Christmas wreath upon the wall, 
A mist steals o'er my sight. 

7 



98 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Dear hallowed wreath, these tears are ail 
The pledge I now can plight 

To those loved ones whose spirit eyes 
Shine down the flight of time ; 

Around G-od's throne their voices rise 
To swell the Christmas Chime ! 



CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 99 



THE CHILDEEN^S CHRISTMAS DINNER 
AT VICTORIA HALL. 

" Mammy, I have been to a dinner to-day, 

A grand Christmas dinner. Oh, my ! it was gay. 

And Billie and me have had plum-pudding too-^ 

See, here in this bag is a nice bit for you. 

WeVe had no plum-pudding since poor daddy 

died; 
And do you know, mammy, last night, when you 

cried 
^Cause you said we'd no fire, no light, or no food, 
I prayed in the dark to the angels so good 
To ask God to send us some dinner to eat. 
And when bright morning came, right into the 

street. 
While you were still sleeping, went Billie and me 
To look for the angels, but none did we see. 
And tho' I was tired, and Billie would cry. 
And the people pushed us when hurrying by, 
I held on to Billie, for we are so small. 
The angels, I feared, would not find us at all. 



100 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

At last I was certain they all had forgot, 

And I could not help crying with pain at the 

thought. 
When I heard some one saying, '' Poor little dears. 
So cold and so hungry. Come, I'll dry your 

tears ! '' 
* His voice was so kind, and his smile was so sweet, 
I knew that the angels had sent him to meet 
Little Billie and me ; so we each took a hand. 
And he led us to where, in a great hall so grand. 
All hung round with holly and shining with light. 
Was spread a warm dinner. Oh, my ! what a 

sight 
To see the poor children, like Billie and me. 
All eating and drinking and shouting with glee. 
When dinner was over, he with the kind voice 
Who found Billie and me, told us all to rejoice. 
For a beautiful lady \ with heart, oh ! so kind. 
Had promised each Christmas a dinner we'd find. 
Then we set up a cheer that nothing could still. 
And we gave three for Mm with all our good will ; 
Then a dear little man X a funny song sang. 
And we shouted and laughed till all the hall rang. 

* Clement Scott. f Edith Woodworth. % Toole. 



CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 101 

* Another such wonderful tricks did perform. 

That I watched all the dolls on the stage in alarm. 

I feared they would vanish right into the air 

If he gathered them under his magic cap there. 

And then we all marched on the stage, one by one. 

While the sweet pretty ladies their good work be- 
gun. 

To load us with dollies and sweeties and toys. 

And told us to always be good girls and boys. 

And right at the end, near the door, in a chair, 

t Sat the dearest old lady, so sweet and so fair ! 

And she gave each a sixpence, all new and bright. 

Then Billie and me held ours quite tight. 

See, here they are safe, all for you, mammy dear ! 

Now, you won^t be ill long, since weVe brought you 
such cheer. 

And now you'll have dinner, here^s an orange so 
sweet. 

Some bread and some sugar, a nice bit of meat. 

Don't cry, mammy darling, the angel& are near ; 

They love us, and guard us, and watch o'er us here ; 

For we are their children, the poor of the land, 

God's sacred, unfortunate, pitiful band." 

* Bertram. f Mrs. Keeley. 



102 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



SISTER OLAIRE^S CONFESSION. 

'^ I saw her last night in the moonlight fair. 

As IVe seen her full many a time. 
While I wept and prayed by my pallet bare. 

Till the sound of the Matin belFs chime. 
Again, she stood in the glimmering light 

Of the moon ^mid the gloom of my cell. 
And its rays stole soft o'er her tresses bright. 

Over her shadowy eyes, to dwell 
On her pale damp brow with its gaping wound 

And the deadly gleaming blood-red flow. 
Silent witness to the fell sin that doomed 

Her sweet young life with its cruel blow ! 
Then I sobbed, and shrieked in my anguish deep. 

Oh ! my sister, sweet sister, forgive ! 
I suffer, I pray — with bitter tears reap 

Deepest punishment here while I live ! 

'^ The pale mute lips gave no answering word. 
No pitying gleam the sad eyes filled. 

No pitying throb in the dead heart stirred 
Of the sister my jealousy killed ! 



8I8TEn CLAIRE'S CONFESSION. 103 

Ah ! holy father ! can forgiveness rest 

On one like me weighted down with years 
Of dark deceit, while my stubborn breast 

Buried deeply its sin in secret tears ? 
Nay ! shrink not away, let me hold the cross, 

"Tis the sign of God^s merciful love ; 
^Twill give me courage to tell of the loss 

Of my birthright in Heaven above ! " 

The waning light of the long summer day 
Through the casement fell, and tenderly lay 
On the pallid face and fluttering hands 
Of the dying nun, while the good priest stands. 
Head meekly bowed, strange fear in his heart. 
Which throbbing with horror would wildly start 
On hearing that awful confession fall 
From one deemed the saintliest of them all. 
In that Convent-band of women so rare. 
Whose lives were deeds of sweet charity fair. 
Humbly he kneels and the crucifix clasps 
In her feeble hand as with dying gasps 
She hoarsely whispers her unhappy tale 
In the listening ear of the priest so pale. 

'' It was far, far away. 
In the long years ago. 



104 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 

Where a deep sunny bay 

Washed with ripple and flow 
The white feet of the cliffs, 

On whose moss-covered heights 
The fir proudly uplifts. 

And the eagle alights. 
It was there, "mid the firs 

Guarded closely around. 
Where the mountain breeze stirs. 

That our home might be found. 
The smile of our mother 

Gilded every bright hour. 
The love of our brother 

Guarded both like a flower. 
Oh ! how joyous the days 

When sure-footed we stept 
O^er the mountainous ways. 

Where the cataract leapt. 
The scream of the eagle 

Echoed loudly our glee. 
As startled the sea-gull 

Fluttered far out at sea. 
Our hearts, like its pinion. 

Free as heaven above, 
Ne^er dreamed of dominion. 

Never whispered of love ! 



SISTER CLAIRE'S CONFESSION. 105 

Till up from the valley. 

On a fair summer eve. 
The sweet hours to dally, 

Came our brave cousin Cleve. 
Just returned from the wars, 

With his bright epaulets, 
Won by many deep scars — 

Which no soldier regrets. 
How his bold handsome eyes 

Flashed and sparkling shone. 
As he told how the prize 

In fierce battles he'd won. 
Ah ! how his stories thrilFd 

And made our hearts quick leap. 
With strange sweet feelings filFd. 

What spell did o'er us creep? 
We knew naught of its pow'r 

My sister dear and me. 
We drank in hour by hour 

Its subtle ecstasy ; 
But when his eyes on her 

With softened light would rest, 
A fierce deep pain would stir 

With bitterness my breast. 
That strange pain taught me all. 

And niade my young heart old, 



106 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Oast o'er my life the pall 

Of jealousy's dark fold. 
And she I loved so dear 

Grew hateful in my sight. 
Until I grew to fear 

The power of envy's might. 
At last one summer eve 

The storm-cloud o'er me burst. 
Cleve asked me to receive 

A brother's love and trust. 
She was to be his bride — 

My blue-eyed sister fair. 
And in their loving pride 

They came, a happy pair. 
To ask me to consent, 

A sister's blessing give. 
God help me I — All the pent- 

Up rage that months did live 
Deep in my jealous heart 

Welled forth in bitter words. 
I heeded not their start. 

As, like poor frightened birds. 
They clung in sad alarm 

Together hand in hand. 
To hear my fury storm. 

Then over all the land, 



SISTER CLAIRE'S CONFESSION, 107 

And out across the sea^ 

A strange deep mist did spread. 
That blinded all to me. 

And tinged with lurid red 
The sky and cliff and wave. 

Fierce murder in my breast 
Eaged like some fiendish knave 

With its mad pain opprest. 
My hapless sister tore 

I from her lover^s fold. 
And cast her where the roar 

Of swirling waters rolled 
Far from the cliff^s high brink. 

Oh, God ! — I see her now — 
I hear her shriek — I think 

Again I see her brow 
With sea-weed matted round, 

I hear that awful cry, 
I see her lover bound 

From off the cliff^s crest high. 
And sink amid the surge 

As o^er him rolled the sea. 
To never more emerge 

Through all eternity. 
And they are dead — dead — dead — 

And I through weary years 



108 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

A life's atonement lead 

Through penitence and tears. 
Pray, holy father, pray — 

My heart is growing still — 
Pray God to make the way 

Clear to His holy will. 
My sight is growing dim. 

The cross before me hold, 
Close — closer — till on Him 

My dying eyes shall fold. 
Despair steals o'er my heart. 

Will God forgive me all ? 
With life 'tis hard to part, 

I dread death's heavy pall ; 
For in its gathering gloom 

I see two forms uprise. 
And menace endless doom 

Por that fell sin that lies 
Porever on my soul. 

Oh ! God, in pity spare, 
Porgive — forgive the whole — 

I die — despair — despair ! " 



The pale lips of the priest 
Slow moved in silent prayer. 



SISTER CLAIRE'S CONFESSION. 109 

And when that low voice ceased. 

With gentle reverent care 
Eaised from her lowly bed. 

And pillowed on his breast. 
The trembling, drooping head. 

The clammy hands caressed. 
Then solemnly and low 

His voice stole on her ear. 
Pierced the despairing woe 

That o'er her cast its fear : 
*^ I am thy cousin Cleve ! 

My poor lost sister Claire, 
Since that sad summer eve 

IVe sought thee ever3rwhere. 
And now, thank God, at last. 

E'en with death's portal nigh, 
I bring thee from the past 

Sweet peace, ere thou shalt die. 
For see ! here in thy hand 

I lay this slender ring. 
Within its shining band 

Forgiveness it doth bring ; 
And list thee while I tell 

How 'mid the roaring sea 
Deliverance o'er us fell 

And God's will set us free. 



110 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

When on that fatal night 

I plunged the cruel wave, 
I swam far out of sight 

Thy sister^s life to save ; 
And with one arm afloat, 

I bore her by my side. 
Till suddenly a boat 

Slow drifting I descried. 
With keel upturned, it danced 

With playful motion near. 
Until, oh God ! it chanced 

Within my grasp to steer. 
Safe, through the long dark hours 

We floated on its keel. 
Till life's returning powers 

Did o^'er thy sister steal. 
At morn upon the rim 

Of that sea, heaving dark, 
I saw with vision dim 

Approach a noble bark. 
And nearer swept its sails. 

As swift its course it sped ; 
With answering cries it hails 

Our lonely ocean bed. 
And then again began 

In new scenes a new life ; 



SISTER CLAIRE'S CONFESSION. HI 

The years their cycles span. 

Thy sister, my sweet wife. 
Yearned for her native land. 

The sight of thy dear face — 
But here within thy hand 

Her dying pledge I place. 
Turn thine unhappy eyes 

To where in heaven above 
God^s sweet forgiveness lies. 

And thy lost sister^s love.^^ 

A tender, holy light 

Stole o'er the nun's wan face ; 
Her dying, fading sight 

Lit with a wondrous grace ; 
With one long happy kiss 

Upon the golden band. 
She passed in peaceful bliss 

To God's own glorious land. 



112 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



'' SHE/' 

Dedicated to Miss Sophia Eyre on her impersonation of 
Mr. Rider Haggard's heroine. 

Oh ! woman of the fair proud face, 
The stately mien, the classic grace. 
The life stream of a royal race 
Doth through thy heart exulting pace. 

The tragic splendour of thine eyes 
Flash lurid as a flame doth rise. 
And darkly whirling, upward flies. 
An offering to the vengeful skies. 

Thy voice the mellow ring of gold 
In every tone of love doth hold. 
Lo ! in thy wrath how grandly bold 
Its cadence proud, sonorous rolled. 

Thine unf orgotten love doth seem 
A story of a centuried ream 
That, like a star's bright fitful gleam. 
Arose and set within a dream. 



"SEE." 113 

Lo ! ^neath the wondrous subtle power 
Of mimic art, oh queen ! thy dower 
Of beauty blooms a nightly flower. 
Within Melpomene's radiant bower. 

A Celt, with glinting ruddy hair. 
Thy woe and passion doth declare. 
In velvet tones, her presence fair 
Hath caught thy charm and magic snare. 



114 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



TO CLEMENT SCOTT, 

ON HIS BOOK OF LAYS AND LYRICS. 

Thy verse is a lute and its strings are of gold. . 
Thy soul is the music its chords doth unfold. 
'Neath sympathy's fingers how tender the strain 
That banishes sorrow and soothes away pain. 
But oh ! when love's whisper doth thrillingly sweep 
The innermost chord of thy soul, hidden deep. 
How rapturously swells the strain borne along 
Of melody born in the heart of thy song. 



TO GALATEA. 115 



TO GALATEA. 

" Pygmalion ! "" I hear again 

Thy voice as through it thrilled the pain. 

Its sad sweet cadence' rise and fall 

In trembling tones, as with them all 

Thy soul went out in thy ''Farewell, 

Pygmalion ! " 

Oh ! it shall dwell 
Forever with me in my dreams. 
Thy voice's music, till it seems 
I see again thy sweet pure face. 
And gaze on all thy wondrous grace. 
Oh ! Gralatea, in thy voice 
Music and love shall e'er rejoice ; 
Upon thy lips the sacred kiss 
Hath genius laid, and thine the bliss 
To feel and know she doth inspire 
Thy soul — thy being with the fire 
Her touch hath kindled in thy heart. 
To consecrate thee to her art. 



116 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE BELLE OF THE BALLET. 

Watch her as she lightly trips. 
Lithe of limb, with supple hips. 
Flashing eye, and smiling lips. 
Gracefully swaying 
To the band playing. 
Dances the Belle of the Ballet. 

As the music^s rhythm flows, 
Eound she speeds on nimble toes. 
All the swells who sit in rows 

Adoringly gaze. 

And noisily praise 
Eaclijt?«5 of the Belle of the Ballet. 

See ! what dainty grace she throws 

Into every skilful pose. 

^Til she seems a wondrous rose. 
Rapturously whirling. 
Maddeningly twirling. 

Dances the Belle of the Ballet. 



THE BELLE OF THE BALLET. 117 

Louder swells the music crash. 
O'er her charms the limelights flash. 
And the heart of every mash. 

Longingly thrilling. 

Beats until willing 
To break for the Belle of the Ballet. 



118 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



ST. VALENTINE^S REVENGE. 

St. Valentine roamed 'neath a wintry sky. 
While lie sadly pondered the reason why 
He was left out alone to shiver and die. 
With his poor little messenger Cupid by. 

For Lovers tiny bow 

Had lost all its go ; 

Benumbed with the cold. 

No arrow would hold. 

Then St. Valentine spoke, in tones sad and low, 
'' My poor little comrade, your quiver and bow 
Eorever are useless, for full well I know 
We have an inveterate, powerful foe. 

An enemy bold. 

Whose merciless hold 

Doth thousands enfold. 

The demon of Gold ! 

*' He has stolen away our prestige and right. 
Has made silly women believe in his might ; 



ST. VALENTINE'S REVENGE. 119 

"With his new-fangled gifts has dazzled their sight. 
To the old-fashioned valentine blinded them quite. 

A jewel, a ring. 

Or some costly thing, 

With sham glittering 

Of love did he bring." 

^^ Alas V sobbed poor Cupid, ^' what shall we do ? 
Teach them a lesson they ever shall rue ; '' 
*' For never again shall lovers be true ! " 
Swore St. Valentine as with Cupid he flew. 

'^ Ha ! ha ! now we^re free. 

My comrade, well see 

Where the sorrow will be. 

To the women or me."*^ 



120 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



THE GIFT OF SONG-. 

God^s angel once with spirit wand 
Asunder smote the mystic bond 
Sealing the mute lips of the soul ; 
And lo ! with full melodious roll. 
With wondrous cadence borne along. 
Sprang forth the glorious gift of song. 

Then all the souFs deep suffering 
And voiceless pain did pathos bring. 
And hope lent rich exultant tone ; 
E^en grim despair^s sad wail and moan 
With tender rhythm thrilled the throng 
Hanging upon each breath of song. 

But oh ! the highest gift of all 
This sweet soul-language is to thrall 
Our being into peace and rest. 
To lull the pain in every breast. 
To lift us to that realm along 
Whose golden shore rings endless song. 



TO MY MOTHER. 121 



TO MY MOTHER. 

Oh I mother, wherever in the realms of the blest 
^Mid the dead mothers^ band thou art happy to- 
night. 

Come visit my pillow and lovingly rest 

My soul ^neath thy wings^ tender heavenly light. 

For oh ! mother, couldst thou know how I weary 
Of lifers hollow pleasures and meaningless strain. 

Thine own gentle hand would break the spell dreary, 
Thou^d take me to rest on thy bosom again. 

As when a weak babe on the threshold of life 
Thou nestled me close to thy fond mother-heart. 

Take back to thine arms, from this world and its 
strife. 
Thy child to new birth and in heaven a part. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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